


In Good Hands

by Always_Bottom_Derek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of a patient by a mental health care professional, Bottom Derek Hale, Cheating Derek Hale, Come Eating, Derek and Stiles are an item but not for long, Edging, Erectile Dysfunction, Is it though if he's being mind controlled?, M/M, Mind Control, Nothing to see here Sterek shippers move along, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spells & Enchantments, Why is there no tag for ED? It's Traumatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:27:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Bottom_Derek/pseuds/Always_Bottom_Derek
Summary: Derek is having some issues... But then when is he not?Deaton recommends Derek to a special supernatural counselor, OC William Drake. Dr. Drake's speciality is unlocking people's repressions.But when he realizes that what Derek is repressing is his voracious bottom instincts, Dr. Drake decides to not just free Derek from his demons, but to claim the werewolf for his own.Needless to say all kinds of porny smut ensues.





	In Good Hands

**Author's Note:**

> So here's another one of my porn chats that got way out of hand. Like 25 + pages. Special Thanks to M.G. for the inspiration, and IcyCyros for the Editing.
> 
> Also, once again... My personal warning... If you must have Derek and Stiles together in slashy bliss to function... 
> 
> Stop Reading Right Here.

Outside of a nondescript building, not far off Beacon Hills’ main street stood Derek Hale. His boyfriend Stiles beside him.

Bushy brows dipped as Derek studied the sign:  Will Drake Ph.D. LCC. Licensed Clinical Counselor.

“I still don’t know about this.”

Stiles took his sourwolf’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, not caring he was engaging in PDA on a public sidewalk with his reticent, still semi-closeted boyfriend.

“Come on, Der. Deaton recommended him. He knows about all this supernatural shit. And the kind of stuff you’ve been through.”

Derek’s frown deepened but he was clearly considering.

“How much longer can you keep dealing with the insomnia? The nightmares when you do sleep? I know your panic attacks are up in number too, even though you deny it.”

Derek just grunted in response but his cheeks were hot under his stubble.

“Not to mention the uh… other stuff.”

Stiles half expected an arm punch for bringing that up, but when it didn’t happen he leaned in and whispered in Derek’s ear, “Do it for me. For us.”

Eyes shifting from Dr. Drake’s sign to a woman down the block walking two toy poodles Derek dipped his head away from Stiles’ mouth.

“Just promise you won’t kiss me right here if I say ‘yes.’”

“Deal.”

Stiles gave Derek’s hand a squeeze and then dropped it. When his werewolf heaved a heavy sigh he broke into a grin, knowing he’d truly won.

“Come on then.”

Derek watched him head up the streetside stairs leading to the doctor’s second-floor office.

“Wait. I thought this was a solo session. You said I didn’t have to do that couples’ crap if I agreed to this.”

Stiles turned and leaned against a painted handrail. “I did. I’m just walking you up.”

“I’m not a kid, Stiles.”

“I know that. But I’d at least like to get a look at the guy I talked to on the phone. Especially when I’m trusting my boyfriend with him in such a delicate state.”

Seeing the dark look in Derek’s eyes Stiles deadpanned, “besides, once I get you in the door, I know you’re not as likely to bolt.”

Derek could have protested but this reasoning was sound.  Damn it.  His boyfriend was getting to know him a little too well it seemed.

He stumped up the stairs. Brushing past Stiles he growled, “I’m not delicate.”

“Of course not,” Stiles called out behind him, though the tone of his voice made it clear he didn’t believe it.

Unfortunately, secretly, neither did Derek, really.

________________________________________________

Eyes traveling around the room Derek was still trying to figure this guy, Dr. Drake, out.

All the musical theatre posters on the cream-colored walls didn’t match with the man, so it was kind of confusing.

Especially since Deaton had said Drake came from a long line of hamramr, and was a true dyed in the wool Berserkir/Bear-man.

He looked it too, standing 6’ 4” at their initial handshake. Full head of hair, light beard, and a thick, heavy body his crisp dress shirt and fifty-dollar tie couldn’t hide. He appeared to be about thirty, although as a shifter he could have been much older for all Derek knew.

It wasn’t often someone made him feel small, but Dr. Drake was doing a pretty good job just by sitting there across the room from him in his padded leather chair.

From his own place on the office’s couch, all Derek could think about was how much he wanted to kill Stiles right now. And how, historically, bears and wolves, two apex predators, didn’t really get along: theirs was a constant battle of domination.

“So, I’ve read the file Deaton gave me,” Drake started. His voice was low but surprisingly warm. “Sounds like you’ve been through the wringer, Mr. Hale.”

“Derek,” Derek offered just to be polite.

“Ah yes, Derek. Thank you.”

The way Drake said his name like he was rolling it around on his tongue, tasting it, did something strange to his stomach; even though Derek was a strict top and had a twinky boyfriend for good reason.

But if he’d ever wanted to be manhandled, which, he silently assured himself (again) he did not; he had no doubt Drake would be the sort that could do it.

The low rumble of the man’s voice startled him from his musings.

“Well, looking at Deaton’s notes, Derek; I can certainly understand why you can’t relax.”

“I’m fine,” Derek grumbled.

“Really?” Drake arched a brow. “Because Mr. Stilinski, who called and made this appointment. Your um… partner?”

“Boyfriend…” Derek stammered out after too long a silence.

“Yes… Well. He seems to disagree with your assertion. Went through a lot to get you here, from what he told me. So, I’d say he’s awfully concerned about you.”

Looking down at the notebook in his huge hands Drake flipped back and forth between pages.

“He said in his initial call you were running yourself ragged…”

Tearing his eyes away from the counselor’s big paws and their implications, Derek snorted and scrunched petulantly back against the couch.

“I’m holding my own.”

“Really?” Drake peered over his tablet. “Because Dr. Deaton wrote you were likely on the verge of some sort of collapse.”

“What does he know? He’s a vet!”

“Ummm… Yes, Derek, but we both know he’s more than that. Don’t we.

“He’s your emissary too, is he not?”

Derek had no answer for that other than digging deeper into his scowl.

“Okay… So returning to your uh… boyfriend. Mr. Stilinski said in our call that whatever you’ve been dealing with has also been putting a strain on your relationship.”

Derek’s brows shot up at that. “What?”

He really was going to kill the twerp. So what if it was true? He couldn’t believe Stiles would go telling something so private to a complete stranger.

“No judgment, Mr. Hale… Derek…” Drake soothed. “And if you see things differently, well… I’m here for you to tell me your perceptions of the situation.”

Pissed now, Derek wasn’t about to disclose anything. “What else did he tell you?”

His growl didn’t faze Drake in the least. Instead, the counselor gave him a kind smile.

“Your anger, Derek… It’s understandable. Especially when a man like yourself is somewhat… Shall we say, pent up?”

Derek’s eyes went impossibly larger at this. His mouth opened but nothing came out.

“Yes…” Drake nodded his head, solemnly. “Mr. Stilinski mentioned you two haven’t been able to have, uh… ‘reciprocal relations’ for several weeks now.”

In that moment, none of the rouged dancers on Dr. Drake’s walls sported a better blush on their cheeks than Derek did.

“Now there’s no shame in experiencing erectile dysfunction. It happens to most men at some time or another.”

Fight, flight, or freeze… Those were nature’s options and right now Derek was so mortified Stiles had mentioned their… or more aptly, his difficulties, he found himself unfortunately frozen.

This was terrible. Worse than terrible.

Head dropping in shame, he waited for Drake to continue, but the man allowed the silence to stretch out.

Finally, Derek looked up.

Warm eyes met his.

He wanted to look away but there was something hypnotic in the bear-man’s gaze and it held him.

“What’s say we get to the bottom of this? Eh, Derek? There’s no need for you to keep suffering.”

The timbre of the counselor’s voice made Derek want to believe him.

He felt something warm on his cheek, realizing it was a tear he knew he should be ashamed of himself, but instead, all he really felt was suddenly, deeply tired.

“That’s right…” Drake hummed, their locked gazes never wavering.

“Why don’t you settle back on the couch. Make yourself comfortable, Derek… And we’ll get this session started.”

____________________________

Drake was pleased to see the werewolf obey him: Derek sitting back into the cushions, his body still taut but no longer humming with the same defensive energy he’d entered with.

If anything the man looked defeated. Which was sort of a shame, since Hale totally rocked the bad boy look.

But there were other looks Drake was more interested in cultivating for his new client. Besides, he could always bring back that bad boy attitude for later interactions,  if he wanted to.

Yes, incredibly astute, the counselor had discerned Hale was a closet-slut the moment he’d entered his office.

Jeans painted on, stretched thin over a fine fat ass. Hale’s tee-shirt so tight the discs of his nipples stood out on those puffed pecs of his, revealed when he slipped out of his leather jacket as he slid down onto the office’s couch.

_Such a waste…_

A prop for his fragile masculinity, a denial of his inner wanton bottom desires, the werewolf had clearly attached himself to that Stilinski twink Drake had met at his office door as a front.

The bear-man sniffed in distaste. It was bad enough Stilinski was not at all what Hale needed, but then to add human to top off the list.

No, it was clear to the counselor that what Derek really required was for someone to help him access all the repressed parts of himself. To set the werewolf’s slutty bitch side free.

And the only way for Derek to find relief from his ills was for a real man to own him. An equal or better to dominate him, mold him.

And Deaton, and Stilinski by default, had sent the wolf to the right place for this, for sure.

Yes, Drake had just the cure for Derek’s “ailments.”

Once he worked his magic the werewolf would be much happier. Not to mention he’d never need to worry about whether or not he got erect ever again.

“Now it seems to me you’re stressed, Derek. Would that be a correct assumption?”

Derek’s brow dipped but he eventually nodded. As soon as he did this he gave a soft sigh.

Drake knew this was Hale’s body’s response to minding him and it pleased him.

Derek must be worn down immensely for the hypnotic skills of his voice and the magic of his gaze to be working so immediately when the wolf was clearly reluctant.

Of course, this also just further confirmed that what Derek really needed was to submit.

“That was a great sigh, Derek.” Drake kept his voice low, soothing. “How about taking another deep breath and seeing if you can’t give me another one.

“Yes… Just like that. Excellent.”

_Just like you’ll soon do after a good, hard, deep fucking…_

“I think before we even start really looking at your issues…”

Drake noted how Derek’s shoulders tensed on that last word. “Why don’t we try some relaxation techniques first… Hmmm.”

Those soulful green eyes blinked, and Derek slowly nodded again.

“Okay. Take another deep breath for me… That’s right. Breathe in, breathe out.”

The glory of that chest rising and falling as Derek followed his orders was a sight to behold. Drake imagined the taste of those pointed nipples on his tongue. He bet they’d look fantastic pierced.

He had to remind himself not to race too far ahead in his speculations just yet. It was early days still.

And, if he had his way… They would have all sorts of time for him to play.

“Feeling a little more at ease now?”

At the question, Derek settled back a little more. Unconsciously his thighs fell open. Yes, he sat there less than five feet away, muscular legs spread wide. A tempting bulge at his crotch.

His inner slut was clearly flagging its need.

“Wonderful…Now, why don’t you tell me something, Derek. Anything you want.

“Feel free to start anywhere…”

With this, the spell seemed to slip just a little.

One of Derek’s motorcycle booted feet nervously jiggled his leg. It made the taut fabric around his thick, muscular thigh bunch and flex.

This alone was enough to entertain Drake until Hale finally managed to start talking.

Cheeks pinking, Derek began to haltingly describe his symptoms. How anxious and irritable he was all the time.

Drake hummed intermittently to show he was listening (and to keep the power of his voice in play.) With these encouragements, gradually Hale went on to mention his insomnia and PTSD symptoms.

The counselor was hard pressed not to clap his hands in delight once Derek finally got around to actually acknowledging the erectile dysfunction Stilinski had mentioned.

It was definitely an issue.

Derek even went so far as to offer with the most deliciously shame-filled expression that, not only hadn’t he been able to get it up, but that Drake was right: he was pent up… to bursting.

“Thank you for sharing, Derek. I know how hard that must have been for you. But let me offer, with great assurance, I sincerely believe I can help you.”

The desperate hope in those wide green eyes was such a turn on, if he’d been a lesser man, Drake might have cum in his pants right then.

“Now, I’m sure Dr. Deaton mentioned my methods are unconventional…

“But if you can extend me just a little bit more trust, I promise you’ll find them very effective.”

“Uh… Okay…”

“Wonderful… That’s good. So good.”

The way the corners of Derek’s mouth curled just ever so slightly before he dropped his eyes away, at last, let Drake know just how much Hale’s inner bitch needed praise.

This was almost going to be too easy.

“Let’s start with something simple. Shall we?”

With eye contact broken, a little bit of defensive tension slipped back into the broad shoulders. But finally, the dark head bobbed.

“Okay. I know this might be difficult, Derek. But if you’d just close your eyes and listen to my voice…”

“I don’t believe in hypnosis…”

“That’s fine…” Drake hurriedly assured him.  And he meant this, because it wasn’t hypnosis, the spell he’d already begun casting on his newest client with his gaze and his voice.

It was so much more.

Derek leaned back after several seconds his head tipped against the back of the couch. His long, dark lashes fluttered as his eyes drifted closed.

Drake started simply, continuing to direct his breathing.

Allowing his voice to wrap Hale up like a blanket, his keen eyes roved over that beautiful hard body as it slowly relaxed. He enjoyed watching the soft bob of Derek’s Adam’s apple with his increasingly sleepy swallows.

Once he was sure Hale was well in the grasp of his magic, the counselor got down to work.

“Your past, all you’ve been through… You’ve built a shell around yourself, Derek. Understandable.

“But now you’re trapped in a carapace so stiff and brittle you cannot even breathe.”

At this Derek’s chest hitched, his respiration increased making it clear that his body was under the influence of his counselor’s suggestion.

“Shhhhh” Drake soothed, sensing the wolf was slipping into a panic.

“Easy there… I’m here, Derek. Here to help you strip off some of these defensive layers.

“Not get rid of them all, mind you…” Drake kept his heartbeat steady through the lie. “Just enough let you breathe a little more easily, while still keeping you safe.

“Okay, Derek?” Though posed as a question these two words held an undertone of command as well.

Derek gave a mumble of assent, his body tense, his breathing rapid.

“Understand the more layers you let go of, the better you’re going to feel…

“With each release, you’ll be lighter… Breathe easier.”

Drake’s pen retraced the sigil he’d drawn on his notepad while speaking, the symbol reinforcing his magic.

“Okay, I want you to open your eyes and look at me, Derek.”

Derek’s head lifted, his jade gaze open but anxious.

“I want you to start stripping off those layers now, Derek.” Drake watched the wolf closely.

“Shirt first.”

“What?” The unease on Derek’s face morphed quickly into confusion.

“It’s symbolic,” Drake patiently explained, “But necessary.”

It was delightful watching the tips of Hale’s ears turn red.

“Like I said… I’m unconventional.

“But you want to be able to breathe, don’t you?”

Derek’s fingers twitched, unconsciously grasping for the hem of his tee-shirt but he stopped them. He opened his mouth to protest.

“Don’t you?”

The color slipped from Derek’s ears into his cheeks; Drake had to bite back a grin.

Clearly crafted by the gods for cocksucking, Hale bit his bottom lip. His expression was openly wary, but eventually he scooched slightly forward on the sofa. He grabbed the bottom of his tee-shirt and began to pull it up.

“Slowly” Drake directed, savoring the reveal. “I want you to be aware of how this it feels, the cotton shucking off your skin. It’s an uncomfortable chrysalis you’re shedding.”

No butterfly had ever been born that was as magnificent as the body slipping out of that shirt. Rock hard abs, packed tight.

Shirt lifted, only low slung jeans were left, hugging hips made to be clung to as Derek’s ass was fucked.

“Feels so good doesn’t it, Derek? The cool air on you. Let it kiss you.”

The brown discs of Derek’s nipples were visible now, his pecs so plump and full. Those tits begged to be teased if Drake had ever seen a pair that did.

“You’re breathing a little easier now, aren’t you… So good.”

Derek nodded, blatant relief on his face.

“Okay… I’m not going to make you take your shirt all the way off…

“Just take the front, Derek, and pull it over the back of your head.”

There was no mistaking the momentary flash of disappointment on that handsome face.

 _Oh, yes…_ Hale’s bitch was there alright, clawing to the surface already.

Frowning Derek obeyed so that in the end he was left, bare-chested, harnessed by his shirt, his muscular arms still in their sleeves.

“Feel the way your reconfigured shirt holds you, Derek? Like a hug of sorts.

_A big manly bear hug now…_

“The grip of large, strong hands…

  _Ropes and leather later…_

“It makes you feel secure, held.”

As he said this Drake’s eyes drank in the wolf’s pointy nips, perked up even more from the office’s air conditioning.

The swirl of black fur on Hale’s chest and the neat treasure trail of finer dark hairs leading down below the waist of his jeans would have to go eventually.  

Drake licked his lips. He kept his sluts smooth. Not just because it made their flesh so much more sensitive, cultivated a special sense of vulnerability, but it also emphasized his place as their alpha stud.  

Imagining how warm and supple and slick that denuded flesh would be, the counselor kept his voice low but there was no denying it held a greater growl now.

He urged Derek to lean back against the couch again.

“See, even though you’re exposed, you’re held too. Feels good. Feels comfortable… Feels natural…

_Feels right, as it should to a bitch._

“Doesn’t it, Derek?”

Hale offered a heavy-headed nod.

“Allow your body to experience this.

“Breath coming ever-easier.

“Body relaxing deeper and deeper.”

_Deeper and deeper… That’s what you’ll cry soon, begging for fat cock in your unrepressed ass._

The gap between Derek’s legs had closed somewhat, perhaps protectively, when he’d first started stripping. But now as if in confirmation of Drake’s thoughts, well under the hamramr’s spell they relaxed and fell open again.

Beckoning…

“Nice Derek. Nice… Embrace this, as you’re embraced…”

With this encouragement, those thick thighs splayed wider. As far apart as the tight jeans would let them.

All this time Drake remained in his chair. From where he sat he watched. His arousal pulsed with each peek of the white band of Derek’s briefs revealed every time the wolf took one of the deep belly breaths he encouraged.

Hale’s ripped abs flexed in the most enticing way with each inhale.

“Your head is heavy… All your tensions uncoiling…”

When Derek finally slipped under the spell enough, his head fell back once more against the couch. He tipped his chin higher though, baring his strong neck. It was an open admission of submission, a petition to be claimed.

Never had one of Drake‘s clients been so responsive, so quickly.

_Such a beautiful slut. You’re going to look so good hanging off my dick. What’s more, you’re gonna fucking love it._

“You’re relaxed now, Derek. But not enough… I can see you’ve still some hidden tensions. Close your eyes. Focus on these.

“Feel them.

“Where do they live in you, Derek.”

That gorgeous throat started to work as Derek struggled to find his voice.

“Easy now… No words are necessary. Let your wolf…”

_Your bitch_

“Tell me. Use your body, Derek… Your hands.

“Show me.”

Derek’s head lifted up; his eyes opened. His gaze was glassy, his expression questioning.

“Yesssss…” Drake exhaled in a hiss, his head nodding.

Setting his notebook aside, he shifted. He leaned forwards, elbows on knees, fingers steepled under his chin, patiently waiting for the show to begin.

With a fresh flush of crimson on his cheeks, silently Derek’s fingers fumbled up to touch the base of his throat.

“So you’re tense in your neck? That’s natural. Many people carry repressed emotion there. And I know already verbalizing isn’t easy for you.

“We’ll work on that.”

_Translation: I’m gonna make you scream._

“Do you feel constrained anywhere else, Derek? Your chest, perhaps.”

The werewolf didn’t make a sound or even nod but slowly he flattened his fingers out. He slid vein-backed hands, palms down, to rest over his pecs.

Drake knew it was possible Derek truly felt bound there, but it could have also just been him falling under his direction. Not that it mattered, his goal had been achieved.

“Ah. I suspected as much.” Seeing the way Hale’s fingers twitched uncomfortably the counselor offered another light praise. “You’re doing so well, Derek

“Do you feel tight there? Compressed?”

The tip of Derek’s pink tongue poked out for just a moment before he nodded. Drake wanted to catch it with his lips, suck it into his mouth, instead he just hummed encouragingly.

“I want you to get in touch with that tension. Move into it. Dig, Derek…Push against the resistance…

“That’s the only way to open it up.”

Strong fingers with nicely trimmed nails pressed into the plump flesh of Derek’s tits.

The sweet, shy expression on the werewolf’s face slipped quickly away. Tension replaced it. But as he continued to knead his pecs it shifted again into something akin to bliss.

This only increased when, caught between the rails of two fingers, Derek “accidentally” pinched one of his nipples.

A low groan of pleasure slipped out.

_Are you a titty whore, Derek?_

“Did you touch something that made you feel good?” Drake whispered this around the fingers still steepled at his lips.

Below his waist, something else had steepled as well. His cock pulsed and spat, hot and wet, when Derek whispered back, his voice wrecked, “yes.”

“Don’t shy away from that. It’s okay to feel good. In fact, it’s better than okay.

“Your body needs this, Derek. You need it.

“In fact, I think it’s imperative for your treatment that you keep it going.

“Whatever it was that made you feel good, Derek… I want you to do it again.”

At these words, a tiny whine curled up and settled in the werewolf’s throat. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek.

_A boyfriend and still so touch-starved. So bereft of pleasure…_

Drake softly clucked his tongue.

“That’s right, do it again, Derek.” The hamramr said his client’s name the way a lover says “sweetheart.”

“Go on… You’re doing so good.”

It was slow going at first, Derek tentatively tracing his nipples, just barely brushing the nubs with his fingertips. But it was enough.

Soon both his cheeks glistened wetly under the office’s soft lighting. The whine in his throat had roused again.

“Do you want to pinch them, Derek?”

Shame and need warred in the green fields of Derek’s eyes.

“A little pressure, a little pain.” Drake’s voice beckoned while his gaze was pinned to Derek’s chest.

“Go on. Take them between your fingers.”

Derek’s mouth had fallen open. His chest fluttered with soft little pants until Drake said, “Now squeeze.”

The second his fingers began to exert pressure on his tender tips Derek’s breath hitched.

“Easy… Deep breaths… Pinch them.

“Tighter.

“Hold them until I tell you to let them go.”

Derek gave another light whimper. It was impossible for Drake to discern if this was in pleasure or protest. He pressed on regardless.

“It’s going to feel so sweet when you finally get to release them. Just like everything else you’ve been holding in.”

It wasn’t until the tips started to purple Drake gave Derek leave to stop pinching. The “hiss” the wolf made as the blood rushed back into his swelling nips was sweet music to the counselor’s ears.

Green eyes popped open wide when, a moment later, he told Derek to “pinch them again.”

Derek’s nostrils flared at the heavy musk of arousal filling the air, both men’s scents swirling together, wolf and bear co-mingling.

His mouth gaped open just a bit wider, the broad flat of his tongue visible just behind his bottom teeth as he sucked the spicy air deep into his lungs.

“Keep your eyes open this time,” Drake growled low in his throat. “Now, look at me and pinch those tits.”

There was no mistaking the way Hale’s pupils blew wide when the coarse word was uttered, or his stifled gasp.

_Oh, you like the dirty talk, do you, you fucking cum-hungry, pain-slut, bitch?_

Drake filed this away for future reference.

Derek’s fingers clamped down again, pinching and releasing on the counselor’s command until his fat ass couldn’t keep from wiggling in desperation against the cushions.

It was a new kind of tears that painted his stubbled cheeks as the minutes wore on. Still, he obeyed, his panting whines creeping up incrementally in volume.

Drake kept this up until he could almost feel the heat of Derek’s tortured tips from where he sat.

When he finally allowed the werewolf to drop his hands the brown pebbles on his chest were dark with bruise.

The bear man could hear them throbbing with Derek’s pulse. Jesus but he wanted to press his tongue to a tit. Suckle on the wolf’s heartbeat.

But there were other things to attend to.

Dropping his eyes, it was impossible not to notice how Derek’s dick had swollen in the future slut’s sinfully tight jeans. A dark stain was slowly spreading on the faded denim.

Yes, clearly whatever ED the wolf had been experiencing was psychological, and it seemed he had already made a remarkable recovery.

“Where else do you feel the tension, Derek?”

His hectic cheeks flushing brighter under his shadow, one of Derek’s hands shifted from where rested cradling the swell of his pec to slide down his equally sinfully tight belly.

It froze, hesitating at the top of his jeans.

“What’s this… Why did you stop?”

Drake leaned back in chair and adjusted the sizeable bulge at his own crotch, not missing the way Hale’s eyes followed his hand.

“You were doing so good. Getting in touch with yourself.

“You can’t quit now. Derek? Don’t you want that release?”

There was no nod, just instant, sweet submission as Derek’s large hand slipped lower over his jeans dropping to his bulge.

“Yes… That’s right. Good.

“Go ahead, get in touch with your tension there as well, Derek.”

Again, deep under the counselor’s spell now, there was no hesitation. Gripping his cock through the denim Derek started rubbing himself. His breath catching in little gasps in his throat.

The way he handled himself might have looked slow and lazy to some but Drake knew his reticence was peeking through again.

“I know it can be frightening for a man to open himself up to another man, Derek. Making himself vulnerable.”

Derek’s hand slowed to all but a stop.

“But it can be freeing too.

“Very freeing.”

Drake rubbed at his own engorged dick, not obscenely like Derek would be in a minute. No, just enough to show his solidarity.

“I’m here for you, Derek. This is a place where you can be vulnerable… Open.

“As I said before,  no judgment. ”

While initially, Derek’s hand stayed slow when it resumed its stroking, pretty soon he was all but lewdly jacking himself over his jeans.

“You’re doing so well, Derek, I don’t think you should stop by any means.” Drakes hummed, “But I am worried about you chafing.”

His voice was rich, warm with false concern. “Plus… skin on skin sensation would be far more beneficial for you, I think.”

It seemed Derek was in full agreement, since this time he barely paused before undoing the buckle of the black leather belt he wore. He popped the button on his fly.

In the quiet room, amidst Derek’s heavy breathing, the rasp of his zipper’s teeth was audible as they unclenched.

As soon as he’d made enough room, Derek slid his hand down under his shorts to touch himself.

Drake saw now the white band of Hale’s briefs gave way to black bottoms.

Even with the dark fabric, it was easy to see the wet stain on his briefs was where his dick had leaked heavily. It was so much bigger than the spot on his jeans.

With his jeans peeled open, Drake got a much better idea of the true size of Derek’s cock. As big as it was, it must have been awfully compressed.

 _Unhealthy,_ he mused.

And a travesty in the treatment of what was clearly a magnificent dick. Of course, in his mind, the optimal outfit for the health of Derek’s penis would be to simply keep the wolf naked.

His conviction regarding his only grew when Hale finally pushed the band of his briefs low and pulled his long, thick, uncut cock up.

With some adjustments, he trapped the waistband below a pair of heavy, dark-furred balls. As he did this, his fingertips toyed with the sheath of his foreskin. And there was a lot of it.

It was a perfect cock for docking.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Derek. Your hand on that fat, pretty prick of yours.”

“Mmmmmmm,” was the only response Derek was capable of making at the moment.

Drake stood, mindful of his own throbbing member. Opening the drawer in the small table next to his chair, he pulled out a small bottle.

As he slipped across the room to stand beside Derek, he kept up his running commentary. Observing. Encouraging.

While Derek was lost, reveling in his newfound hardness, Drake moved close enough to open the vial of spelled lube he held and squeezed. Two large, clear drops fell upon Derek’s exposed dick.

Derek’s dark head had dropped in concentration and his eyes had fallen closed again. But when the cool lube kissed his cock his head lifted.

Eyes opened once more, he regarded Drake, his expression doing nothing to mask his lust. His deep, and gnawing need.

Drake was transfixed by the bared bitch in the wolf’s gaze but he stayed where he was, making no attempt to touch.

When Derek’s ever-moving fingers found the lube to grease his stokes, he picked up his pace. He shuddered in sheer pleasure.

“No.”

The wolf started at the surprisingly crisp command.

Seeing this Drake smoothed out his tone. “No, Derek,” he said much more gently. “You can’t release yet.

“I know you want to, but we have some more work to do first.”

The counselor was surprised to receive a low growl of protest in response. It made him want to chuckle.

_Greedy already. And still a little fight there… I like that._

He wasn’t worried about Hale coming though. The werewolf was far enough under his spell that since he’d told him he couldn’t come, Derek wouldn’t be able to now without permission.

“Look at me, Derek.”

Sullen eyes regarded him, clearly desiring to look away but unable to do so.

“You need to trust me. Listen to me.”

A pulse of precome beaded at the tip of Derek’s dick and dribbled off to become a glossy, dangling string.

“It’s important for this treatment to be successful, Derek.

“You’ve carried so much for so long…

“You need to relinquish that, give over everything, even if just for a few minutes.”

_Let me conquer you. You clearly need a master._

Drake’s last words were overshadowed by Derek’s needy whimper.

“That’s a good boy…”

Another spurt of pre at this praise and Drake knew he had his bitch right where he wanted him.

For the next half-hour he dictated to Derek how to touch himself.

How fast to go. How to hold himself. When to slide his milking hand over the head of his cock.

The counselor returned to Hale’s abused nipples too. His language changed, becoming coarser as he described Derek’s body, what to do with it.

The hamramr’s hazel eyes drunk in every building gasp as he told Derek how needy and sensitive his tits were. Watched him take up one hand to his chest again, respond to his suggestions: the wolf suddenly then shivering harder in pleasure with every brush of his fingers.

“Feels so good… So perfect… To let everything go… Doesn’t it, Derek?

_I’m going to own you._

“So good.

“See the reward you get when you trust me? When you let me take control…”

At this point, the perpetual rumble of Drake’s voice was affecting Derek just as much as the touch.

“Ah, that’s right… you’re being so good for me.

“But why wouldn’t you?

_Your inner bitch knows an alpha stud by the scent, doesn’t it?_

“You want to please me, don’t you Derek? After all, you know now, already, no one else can help you like this but me.

“Not Deaton.

“Not Stilinski…”

_Definitely not Stilinski…_

Drake opened his fly and pulled out his own mammoth cock when Derek barked out a “yes!” at this that sounded more animal than human.

“Only me, Derek… I’m the only one who can help you… All you have to do is let go and follow the sound of my voice.”

Hale’s next “yes” was much quieter, but it sounded even more desperate.

“Set your hands aside. Hush now, no crying.”

Drake watched the tears run down Derek’s stubbled cheeks: the poor bitch needed to come so badly.

The counselor added a couple drops of his special lube and began stroking himself, knowing it had no effect on him other than smoothing his slide.

“I’m going to touch you now, Derek.”

Despite these words, the counselor did not move closer. He stayed where he was, languidly kneading his fat, bear-man cock. It was almost ten inches erect, thick as a beer can at its widest point.

_This is the cock that is going to open up your ass eventually, Hale. The one you’ll cry for at night if your hole’s left empty._

Drake was hard pressed to force his mind away from the picture of it. But he needed to focus. They’d reached the true test for this first session.

“You’re going to raise your hands again, Derek. But when they touch your skin, you’re going to experience them as mine.”

“P-please,” Derek whimpered.

“Trust me… No other’s hands will make you feel so good.”

Eyes closed, head tipped back, throat bared, Derek was completely at the counselor’s mercy now.

“I’m gonna start slowly, Derek. I’ll tell you before every touch.”

Drake wondered if the pounding of Derek’s heart sounded as loud in the wolf’s ears as it did his own.

“My first touch is going to be your brow… Just at your temples. Like the stroke of a feather and then the barest of rubs…”

At the light sounds Derek made the hamramr realized he was already addicted to the wolf’s whimpers. An audio drug he planned to be hitting a lot in the future.

“Feels good, doesn’t it… With my touch, any and all tension fading…

“My fingers are going to travel down to the base of your ears now, at the juncture of your jaw.

Pressing, soft then harder. Feel my fingertips rubbing your scruff. Again, all tension leaving at these touches.

“Your jaw is light now. Loose… In fact, why don’t you open your mouth wide for me, Derek? Show me.”

_Show me how you’re going to get that hole around my fat cock._

Drake stood, slowing slicking his dick, watching Derek’s own hands rove over his body while the wolf’s mind told him they were another’s.

It was gorgeous. Derek’s skin pinked with his sex flush. Mouth hanging lewdly open, tongue automatically stretching out like the bitch knew what was coming.

And the way his back arched up off the couch at the pinch of his own fingers on his nipples… There would be cameras next session and every session thereafter.  Absolutely.

Drake made Derek rub over his stomach, trace his Adonis belt with soft fingers, then pull his jeans and briefs down and all but off so he could tease the insides of his thighs, ghost a finger over that still-hidden, unplowed valley.

By the time he was finally ready to allow Derek’s hands on his cock, the wolf was openly begging. His narrow hips lifting up of the cushions, trying to fuck the very air his need to come so bad.

“No…” Drake lightly scolded.

_Set that fat ass back down on the couch, bitch._

“Stay still, Derek.”

For the first time in their session, Derek’s words tumbled out with no effort. “But I need… Fuck… God… Just Fuckkkk… I need…”

“You’re not going to come, but I am going to touch your cock now.”

_Since you begged so pretty._

When Derek/Drake’s hand wrapped around the wolf’s dick at last, Derek’s breath choked at the power of the touch.

Tears of need rolled down his cheeks, but Drake didn’t allow him to start stroking yet.

Instead, he made him take his other hand and grab hold of his seed-heavy sac. Pulling and rolling those aching blue balls until Derek was openly weeping, mouth gaped open in breathless, wordless pleas for completion.

His cock was crying too, spitting tears off precome steadily. Derek’s meat-filled hand and low belly were glossy with it.

“Feels good to cry… Doesn’t it Derek.

“But I bet it just feels good, period… So fucking good…

“And I’m the one giving it to you. No one else.”

“Yes!” Derek sobbed.

“Who is helping you, Derek?”

“Y…y…you… S-sir.”

Hearing Hale call him “sir” without prompting was such a surprise, Drake’s jaw dropped open. The correctness of his instincts about Derek’s true, slutty bottom nature couldn’t have been any clearer.

_Fuck this bitch is perfect!_

“Good… Very good. Since you gave me such a nice answer, I’m going to strip your cock now, Derek. But you’re still not going to come until I give you permission.”

The moment he’d been given the go, Derek started bawling as he jerked his own cock viciously. Chest heaving, his hips bucked up frantically into his own hand, because it felt like another’s.

Now was the time. Drake moved forward. A loafered foot nudged Hale’s boot, the one his jeans and shorts were still caught around. Making Derek splay his legs wider again, he stepped between thick thighs.

He edged Derek for a few more minutes, grateful for his sound-proofed walls by then, the way the wolf wailed.

“Hush now…”

The room fell immediately quiet but for Derek’s ragged breathing.

“I want you to take a deep breath, Derek, and open your eyes.”

When Derek did the pained grimace on his face evaporated, replaced with a look of awe.

The hand jerking his cock ceased moving but for the barest of milking motions. His other hand squeezed tight at the base of his dick, perceptibly clenched.

“Tell me what you see, Derek.”

Derek licked his lips. When he spoke his voice was rough, hoarse from his crying, hesitant in the novelty of his submission.

“A cock…”

“Tell me more.” Drake couldn’t keep from smiling at the dawning hunger on the wolf’s face, the way Derek’s whole body instinctively leaned forward.

“It’s big… so fucking big… Thick… God… The head’s like a fist.

“It’s an alpha’s cock… A stud’s… Made for breeding…”  With each word, Derek’s voice grew stronger, searing the words and thoughts firmly into his mind, until the last was uttered with such surety.

“Ummmm,” Drake interrupted, wagging his thick shaft back and forth, delighting in how the green eyes tracked it.

He dipped into his open fly and with no small effort worked out his balls revealing his full heavy sac. “Yes… Thick with cum… Gallons of it. All for the bitch that earns it.”

With this, the hamramr leaned forward and slowly raised his hand to Derek’s mouth and brushed his actual thumb along his bottom lip.

He watched Hale’s sweet bitch mouth drop open for him.

“You want to be the bitch that earns this cock, Derek?

“It will take a lot of hard work on your part. I won’t make it easy on you.”

The counselor stroked the pad of his thumb over his tongue as it panted and stretched out to him inanswer.

“But I think we both know that it’s the only way you’re ever going to really feel better. Hmmm?”

Derek choked back a sob but latched onto Drake’s thumb. Once it was sheathed in the hot wet cavern of his mouth he started suckling it.

Showing Derek immediately what his position was, Drake stopped him mid-suckle to begin slowly fucking his mouth with his thumb, making it clear as the stud, he called the shots.

Derek remained pliant as the hamramr gradually added more fingers until he was all but gagging on Drake’s fist.

All the while the bear-man kept talking, soothing, telling Derek what he needed. What he would have to do to truly be free from all the darkness he carried inside that constantly threatened to swallow him.

Drake thrilled in the vibrations around his fingers as he fucked Derek’s mouth while the wolf whimpered at the truth of his words and the overwhelming sensations assaulting his body.

Iridescent eyes wide, stubble-rough cheeks wet with tears, red with lust and blood and splotchy from crying.

With his lips stretched taut around the hand in his mouth, Hale made one of the prettiest pictures Drake had ever seen.

“Only I can make the ache in your heart fade Derek. Only I can fill the void in your soul. Only I can satisfy the need in that desperate hole of yours.

“Do you want that Derek?

“To be loved with a stud’s fierceness?

“To be owned completely?

“To be bred swollen like your inner bitch longs to be?”

Drake felt the hitch in Derek’s throat and pulled his hand out so that he could answer.

Hale’s whole body shook with neurogenic tremors. His voice was so quiet, raw… but clear.

“Yes.”

Drake watched the expression on the wolf’s face shift when he finally spoke his truth. His eyes went stunned, then they turned up to him so beseechingly.

“Yes…”

Derek tasted the word again and clearly found it sweet on his finger-fucked tongue.

So sweet he said it again and again softly still, but until it came with his every breath.

It was so fucking beautiful the hamramr couldn’t hold back any longer. He clamped his spit sticky hand around Derek’s throat. He kept his grasp light though he knew he could have gripped hard if he wanted to right now and still wouldn’t have met any resistance.

Drake held his bitch in place as he directed his cock. With just a few furious strokes he painted Derek’s open-eyed face with his come.

It was glorious how Hale received it. It covered his cheeks, his lips, his lashes, and the bitch didn’t even blink.

Derek’s only movement was to eagerly stretch out his tongue to catch as much as he could in his open mouth and then to begin licking out as far as his tongue would reach to gather what had fallen outside his mouth.

“So good… Look at you. Yes…. So eager.”

Derek’s eyes dropped humbly away but the soft smile that curled the corners of his mouth showed just how much he loved the praise.

Drake dropped his cock, scooped up some of his cum on a finger from Derek’s chest, and fed it to his bitch.

“Someday soon, I’m going to fill your asshole with this.”

Derek kept his eyes averted but the curl in his lips didn’t slip as he sucked Drake’s seed off the bear-man’s thick finger.

Pulling out of his mouth, Drake lifted his hand and stroked Derek’s sweaty brow, so pleased. Ingestion of his sperm would only make his spell stronger.

Looking down he saw the wolf’s cock, all but forgotten in Derek’s hands, hard still, its color furious.

_As it should be… Studs’ cocks come first._

He was surprised when Derek’s dark head dipped, his mouth clearly seeking to clean up his stud’s cock.

_Such perfect instincts._

He caught Derek’s bangs before the wolf dropped any lower, tightened the hand still collaring his throat.

“No… That’s not for you.”

He chuckled at the growl this earned him. “Yet…” He soothed. Then he waited for Derek to look back up at him.

It took a few seconds, up when that green gaze met his, he offered. “Right now I think it’s time for you to come.”

God what it did to Drake, this alpha looking bitch whining like a pup in his eagerness.

“Keep your eyes on me. I’m going to start stroking you again, Derek. And I want you to know who it is that is giving you this gift.”

It was Derek’s own hand that started moving again.

“When I tell you to come, you’ll come and it is going to be like nothing you have ever experienced.

“You’re going to tap into your wolf’s most primal energy

“For just a moment you’re going to be aware of every cell in your body

“When you come, a decade’s worth of darkness will be shed from your soul, Derek.”

As he spoke, the hamramr tightened and released Derek’s throat under his hand until the wolf was dizzy with the need for air.

“Can you feel it in you? Churning? The tingle at the base of your spine… The buzz in your balls.

“Can you feel your honey rising Derek? Pulled from the hive?

“That’s bear nectar you’re making, bitch.”

There was no more potent substance in the whole world than the look on Hale’s face, his mind clearly blown by both what Drake’s words offered and the experience of it.

Derek’s pupils were so dark with awe the counselor almost missed the flash of beta blue as the wolf’s bitch truly rose to the surface. Derek’s features twisted into a climatic grimace.

Dark lashes fluttered and his eyes rolled up as the hand on his throat gripped him like a claimant’s bite.

Drake gave his face a light slap.

“Keep looking at me!”

He squeezed harder until once more his gaze was met. When their eyes met he saw Derek’s soul. With this, he released the wolf’s throat and ordered, “Come!”

Chest heaving as he gasped for breath, the counselor’s office filled with a staccato roar the moment Derek found his lungs. Low and deep and primal.

His fangs dropped, muzzle extending.

Turned loose from Drake’s grasp he collapsed, shoulders crashing into the back of the couch, the rest of his back caught in a deep arch. The muscles of his belly danced.

Derek’s dick spasmed in his grip and erupted, coating his stomach, shooting high enough to hit his tits.

_So much cum._

The wolf’s head fell forwards and he caught his own essence in his open mouth. He swallowed it immediately, weeping in relief as he did.

When the throes of his orgasm finally subsided Derek collapsed, boneless. He slumped back into the couch. His bare belly heaving. His chest was glossy with sweat and spend.

Fangs and face retracting Derek’s eyes closed. He lay there unmoving.

Basking.

Drake tucked himself away, allowing Derek to float, letting the release permeate him. It was necessary for the process.

What was more, the bitch had earned it.

Leaning forward he ran one of his big hands over Derek’s sticky-slick torso.

Supple, strong, wet and warm. Derek’s heart was still pounding hard. Drake couldn’t wait to feel this same pulse beating around his cock, sheathed inside Derek’s ass.

The hamramr brought his fingers to his nose inhaling the scent of submission. He licked his thick tongue out to taste his bitch’s honey.

At the salty tang, he felt his magic surge, the bond they’d begun to forge deepen.

Drake licked his fingers clean. Went in for another swipe over the wolf’s chest, rising and falling now in the cadence of sleep.

This he pressed to Derek’s lips, pleased with how the wolf nursed his fingers, even while his mind continue to dream.

Once satisfied, the counselor set to righting his office. Windows were opened to ease the room of their potent scents.

Drake ducked into the office’s en-suite bathroom more than once to rinse the cloths he wiped Derek down with. Though not before capturing a couple pictures of the soiled, spent, sleeping bitch on his phone. He knew a couple of people that would be interested in those.

A simple spell refreshed Derek’s clothes, and Drake had little trouble getting Derek’s limp body dressed. More or less.

He couldn’t, however, resist pressing a kiss to each of the wolf’s nipples before pulling Derek’s shirt back down and smoothing it over his broad chest.

Strolling back over to his chair the counselor rearranged himself. Lube put away, tie straightened, notebook picked back up again.

He matched his breathing to Derek’s, sitting in silence for several minutes, relishing. Then Drake began speaking again.

“When you’re ready Derek, you’ll wake up. While you won’t remember much of our session right away, the effects of the work will stay with you. You will feel peaceful… rested… energized.

“Your temperament will be calmer, warmer. You’ll smile. Not a lot, but more.

“Over the next several days, little moments of our time will return to you

“These flashes will not alarm, however. No. Indeed, they will awaken…

“These feelings will build until you can no longer stay away.

“When you reach the point the constant ache, your need becomes unbearable… You will seek me out for another appointment. And you’ll be  prepared for us to continue our sessions.”

Another sigil drawn, a few more words rumbled, then Drake sat back to wait.

__________________________________________

Derek dozed softly for a long time, exhausted. Then he began to rouse.

He lifted his head and looked around him, blinking.

His eyes slightly dazed.

“Derek?”

He rubbed his temples. The first thing he noticed was his eyes felt gritty and his head ached like it would after a long cry. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, surprised to find it dry.

The second thing he noted was how peaceful he felt.

Really peaceful.

In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so calm.

It was wonderful.

And weird.

“Derek?”

This time when his name was called he looked over and saw Dr. Drake regarding him with a warm but concerned expression on his face.

“How are you feeling there? You were talking and then you kind of drifted off on me.”

“I feel okay… pretty good, honestly.”

Although for the life of him Derek couldn’t remember what he’d been saying. He remembered their introduction, starting to talk about things… Even…

He blushed lightly recalling telling the counselor about the “sexual issue” he’d been having with Stiles but oddly, the usual anger and shame were absent.

“Well, I was saying for a first appointment it went really well,” Drake continued with a pleasant smile.

“I know you said you had a hard time sharing things, but after that relaxation technique I took you through, you really opened up.

“I think I have more than enough information now to design a therapy plan that will suit you perfectly.”

Derek struggled to keep the confusion off his face. He kind of remembered them starting some relaxation thing, but after that… nothing.

Normally this would have made him really uneasy, but right now all he felt was warm and settled. It was too comfortable to question.

“Uh… Good, Doc. That sounds great.”

Derek reached up to rub the back of his neck, one of his nipples gave him a little “zing” as the cotton of his tee-shirt slipped over it. But otherwise, all his muscles felt loose and buttery.

“So, when should we meet next?” Derek hated to admit it, but if this was how he felt after every session, he was eager to come back.

“Well, after talking to you, I think you’re in a stable place right now. My guess is, if you keep up the techniques we went over…

“I’ll give you a pamphlet too…

“A lot of your symptoms should show a quick and significant improvement.”

The counselor rose and did indeed pull a brochure from the drawer of the small table next to him. He held it out.

“So, what I’d like, is for you to call me when you want to come in next. I’ll leave the timing up to you.”

Derek leaned out and took the handout before standing, the frown on his face feeling out of place, rather than normal.

“I know it’s unconventional, but that’s me… Like I said.”

At the word “unconventional”, an image flashed in Derek’s head. His hands on his shirt pulling it over his head.

Something in that picture made his dick twitch. The sense of something stirring in what had been a “dead zone” for weeks made him glance down.

He felt his cheeks heat when he realized his fly was down.  Great. He’d been flashing his new shrink for the last ninety minutes.

Derek grabbed his jacket from the arm of the couch and held it in front of his crotch. He nodded over to Dr. Drake’s posters, one of which was for a Musical film currently playing at the BH cineplex.

“The Greatest Showman, eh? Stiles keeps trying to get me to take him to see that.”

While Drake looked over at the poster Derek did his best to covertly zip back up.

“Yes. You should give it a try. It made me insanely happy the first time I saw it.”

Drake turned his hazel eyes back and chuckled. “Of course, I know that’s ironic language for a man in my line of work. But seriously, it’s all about owning one’s place in the world.

“I think you’d enjoy it.”

Something in his laugh made Derek’s belly flip in a really lovely way. And, while he’d never been a big fan of musicals, he knew, Stiles or not, he’d be heading to the movies that evening.

________________________________________

Derek sat on the third step from the bottom on his loft’s staircase, dressed for his morning run in a white tank top and soft, black jogger bottoms. He was in the process of putting on his shoes when he felt the stairs vibrate and heard Stiles clunking down them.

He turned and saw his boyfriend looking still sleepy-eyed and fucked out, naked body wrapped in his nana’s quilt he’d found buried in the family vault. Stiles sat down a couple of stairs behind him with a wince.

“That Dr. Drake is a miracle worker, eh, Der?” Stiles yawned and broke into his first ramble of the day.

“I mean, you fucked like an ox and then cuddled like a terrier after… No offense about the dog analogy. I know how sensitive you are about that.

“But then, not only did you let me sleep over… I mean, I can count the number of times I’ve stayed overnight here on one hand and we’ve been dating for six months…”

Stiles began ticking off on his fingers.”So sex, plus stay over… Plus! You slept the whole night.

“No nightmares. No insomnia…

“Deaton was right, the guy knows his stuff.”

Derek cut Stiles off but not with what his boyfriend was expecting. “Yeah, he does. Look, I know I was kind of reluctant to go at first…”

“Reluctant?” Stiles snorted. “Uh… understatement!”

Derek gave his naked, knobby knee a nudge before turning back to his laces. “Shut up. I’m trying to tell you I’m glad I went.”

He went stiff for just a moment as Stiles dropped down behind him a step and leaned against him. Hugging from the back, lean arms slid under Derek’s pits and bent back to grab his shoulders. Stiles kissed the base of his neck and hummed.

“See, miracle worker. And you’re seeing him again when?”

“I don’t know. He told me to call him when I thought I needed it.”

Derek pushed up and out of Stiles embrace shaking his head. The way Stiles had gripped him felt so familiar, but wrong. For the first time in three days, a little of the peace he’d lived in slipped away.

And he missed it immediately.

“Okay, too early for cuddles clearly,” Stiles rose and finished thunking down the steps. He stopped and tilted his head.

“Derek your ass looks different. No short lines. Are you wearing a jock?”

Fuck sometimes Stiles was too observant. Derek dropped his eyes and blushed. He usually just ran in briefs under his joggers despite the discomfort that sometimes caused and his boyfriend knew this.

But for the past few days, he had worn a jockstrap and not just for running.

The feeling there was only one layer separating his ass from the world when he did this, he’d only recently found, wasn’t just quietly thrilling…

It was…

But it also felt somehow necessary and oddly comforting.

“I just wanted some extra support,” he grumbled, grateful that Stiles was human and couldn’t hear his lie.

Stiles stepped over to run his hand over the bubble of his boyfriend’s fine ass. “Hey, I was just curious. And definitely not disappointed. Can I see you in it?”  

A feeling of unease once again reverberated through Derek, fleeting but potent.

There was an eager glow in Stiles’s eyes; Derek gave him a half smile.

“Maybe after my run. If you’re good.”

He closed the door on Stiles’s still promising, amidst scatter-shot questions of what “good” actually entailed and what disqualified.

The moment his feet hit the pavement, without even thinking about it, Derek had altered his usual course.

Headed now in the direction of Dr. Drake’s office.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> And yes, this may end up being a series... No promises but we'll see.


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